


MY BOYFRIEND AND I TRY PHONE SEX (NOT CLICKBAIT)

by playedwright



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based on a SMAU, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Social Media AU Bonuses, like.... vaguely. blink and you'll miss it, they are youtubers that's why the title is what it is lakjslkf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25999900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: Eddie answers his phone.“You know, if I’d have known you were gagging for it this bad, I wouldn’t have let you get on that plane until I’d had my mouth on your dick.”Eddie’s laugh comes out breathy as he climbs bed and settles back against his pillows, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He’s still smiling as he says, “It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that me suplexing you into the ocean was foreplay.”
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 315





	MY BOYFRIEND AND I TRY PHONE SEX (NOT CLICKBAIT)

**Author's Note:**

> so [scams](https://twitter.com/chernobrough) was like "will you write this for me for my smau" and i was like i already have the google doc open . tell me more. and now we have 3k words of This.
> 
> set in the smau universe [Cringe Fail](https://twitter.com/CringeFail_AU) which is A+ comedy and characterization. the losers are all various internet presences, mostly youtubers. it's one of the most entertaining smau's out there so give it a read if you're not already caught up, and if you're reading this you are in fact legally obligated to go read that as well :) this happens not long after the end of episode one but the timeline is pretty vague in here on purpose, so imagine it where you want. point is they are b-words :)
> 
> ANYWAY ENJOY XOXO

It’s a different kind of anticipation, sitting on the edge of his bed wearing nothing but his boxers and a sweatshirt that’s probably too big for him. He bounces his knee and stares blankly at his phone and waits for the screen to light up with a call from his boyfriend.

Jesus Christ. His _boyfriend._

He’s had boyfriends before. None of them have been Richie _fucking_ Tozier. Richie makes his chest feel tight in a way no one else ever has. Richie makes him feel insane when they aren’t talking, and a different kind of insane every time they are. Eddie has the urge to take ten mile runs every time he talks to Richie, for a different reason each time.

“Get a grip,” Eddie mutters to himself, and he’s laughing when his phone starts to ring. Get a grip. That is the point of this, isn’t it, Kaspbrak? Get a good grip. Make it a good show for your boyfriend, Eds.

He answers the phone. 

“You know, if I’d have known you were gagging for it this bad, I wouldn’t have let you get on that plane until I’d had my mouth on your dick.”

Eddie’s laugh comes out breathy as he climbs bed and settles back against his pillows, cradling the phone between his ear and his shoulder. He’s still smiling as he says, “It’s not my fault you didn’t realize that me suplexing you into the ocean was foreplay.”

“Yeah, I fucking knew you were judo-lifting me over your head to get your rocks off, you fuckin’ perv,” Richie laughs.

“Sex on a beach isn’t just a drink, sweetheart.”

Richie’s voice is incredulous as he says, “Is this you telling me you’d have sex in public?”

“I’m trying to have sex right now, dipshit,” Eddie interrupts. He’s not quite hard, but he’s getting himself there, just from Richie and the way his voice dipped when he said _sex._ Eddie brushes his palm against the front of his boxers, teasing and light, and lets his breath hitch enough that Richie can hear it over the line.

It’s worth it, for the way he hears Richie inhale sharply. There’s fumbling on the other side before Richie settles down, presumably in his own bed. His breath is labored as he says, “You know, it’s bad form to take a phone call when you’re balls deep in someone else, Eds.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, my other boyfriend says hello.”

“I’m honestly impressed you could handle more than just me,” Richie laughs.

“You’d like me to handle you,” Eddie shoots back. Richie laughs over the line, a little bit incredulous. Maybe surprised. Eddie likes that, the idea that he can surprise Richie. He wants to do it again. So he asks, “Are you touching yourself?”

Richie makes another choked sound. Eddie doesn’t wait for Richie’s response, certain he already knows the answer anyway. He wraps his fingers around his dick over his boxers, and his grip tightens when Richie says, “Fuck, yes, yeah. Are you?”

“I am now,” Eddie answers. “What are you wearing?”

“Sorry, do you think you dialed a porn hotline? Where’d you find your material, 1998?” Richie laughs. “Sweatpants. T-shirt.”

Eddie hums. He’s pretty sure he knows what sweatpants Richie is wearing, since he’s certain Richie was wearing the same pair every morning that Eddie was in L.A. Even without the description, he can picture Richie’s t-shirt. Something horrendous, more likely than not. And Richie, sprawled out in his sheets, hand over his pants as he teases himself and keeps Eddie on the line. “Wanna take those off?”

Richie’s breath hitches again. It shouldn’t surprise Eddie that Richie is vocal like this, but it does send a rush through him so tangible he can feel it in his toes. “Yeah,” Richie murmurs. “Yeah. Do you want me to take both of them off…?”

“Jesus,” Eddie mutters. “I―”

“Right now, I just,” Richie starts. His voice is thick. “I, uh. I have my hand on my dick. Pulled it out of my sweatpants so I could. Do this better.”

Eddie’s heart rate does something complicated. He can imagine it, almost too well, as Richie describes it. He thinks about the pictures Richie sent―gorgeous, obscenely slutty pictures of Richie at full hardness and leaking against his stomach, and pictures of Richie’s hand wrapped around himself in a way that made Eddie’s head feel woozy and his skin feel warm. It’s easy, then, to add the image of Richie’s hands on himself to the picture Eddie has been building already. It’s easy to think about Richie’s long, large fingers, lazily pumping as he stays on the phone. So it’s easy, of course, to imagine those same fingers wrapped around Eddie’s cock, teasing him at a maddening pace. Eddie bites down on his tongue to keep from whimpering.

“You’re so hot,” Eddie murmurs. His voice is shaky, but Richie seems to like it. Eddie can hear when Richie’s breathing gets more labored. “Do you, uh.”

“Spit it out, baby,” Richie says easily. Eddie gets struck with the image of Richie barely touching himself, lazy little touches that turn him on but don’t drive him wild, and some switch in Eddie’s brain flips on. He wants to make Richie incoherent. He wants to hear him coming apart over the line, and he wants to imagine what it would be like in person. Wants to hear as he takes Richie apart slowly, teasing, one day, then frantically the next.

“Take your shirt off,” Eddie says. He’s impressed by the way his voice doesn’t waver. And it’s worth it, for the hitch in Richie’s breath that gets caught over the line. “Leave your pants on, though. For now.”

“Shit, okay,” Richie pants out. Eddie listens to the phone fumble as Richie yanks his shirt over his head and, most likely, throws it somewhere in his room. He’s a little breathless when he puts the phone back to his ear. “Okay. What about you? Paint me the picture, Eds.”

Eddie runs his thumb over the head of his dick, still clothed, and lets out a small, breathy groan. “Boxers,” he says. “I’m, uh. Touching myself over them right now. And a sweatshirt.”

Richie whistles lowly. “Keeping the goods covered up. Such a tease.”

“What are the goods in this scenario? My dick, or my abs?” Eddie asks.

“Tits,” Richie says. “Obviously the tits. Do you not remember Coffeegate? I broke my favorite fuckin’ coffee mug ‘cause the tits were out on full display.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He lets go of his dick so that he can tease his fingers into the waistline of his boxers. “Right, I was the one with the tantalizing tit tease. Or do you not realize that you fill out every shirt you put on?”

“That’s the shoulders,” Richie argues.

“You gonna fight me while I’m trying to get you off?” Eddie asks, point-blank. He can hear it when Richie snaps his mouth. “That’s what I thought. You know, I didn’t even get to see you with your shirt off. I saw more of you naked on your Twitch stream with Stan than I did when I was literally in your house.”

Richie snorts. “I’m shy.”

“Cry me a river,” Eddie says. “Can I tell you what I want to do to you now, or is this working for you? Do you want to get off to me insulting you? No, wait, don’t answer that, I think I already know what you’re gonna say.”

Eddie fights back a smile when Richie laughs. “Was I not supposed to be jacking it the whole time? I’m doing this wrong.”

“You’re doing fine,” Eddie reassures him. He holds his phone before his ear and his shoulder again as he shifts up enough to slide his boxers off his hips and toss them to the edge of the bed, so he hears it when whatever Richie was going to say dies in his throat. “I can picture it, you know. I’ve been thinking about you. About this, for. God, I don’t even know, dude.”

“Guh,” Richie says smartly.

“Is that so hard to believe?” Eddie asks. He brings his hand to his mouth, spitting into his palm before he wraps his hand around his cock. He starts to pump his hand slowly, easy movements. Getting Richie there first is his priority.

“What are you doing?” Richie asks.

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed. He leans his head back against the headboard. “Just took my boxers off. I’m jerking myself off, but. I’m imagining it’s you.”

“Jesus,” Richie gasps out. “What, uh. What would you do? If it were me.”

“Start by wrapping my fingers around the base of your dick,” Eddie answers. He does the same as he narrates it. “I’d hold like that, for a second. Just for a bit, holding pressure. Until you were begging for me to touch you more.”

“You want me to beg now?” Richie pants.

Eddie presses his thumb, shiny with his own spit, to the head of his cock and lets his breath hitch enough for Richie to hear it. “If you think it will get you somewhere.”

“Fucking,” Richie mutters. “Goddamn. What _are_ you, some kind of. Sex demon?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Eddie says easily.

Richie groans. “Tease.”

“That’s the point.”

Richie groans again, long and drawn out. Eddie starts to move his hand a bit faster. “God, Eds, fucking―fine. _Please,_ just.”

“Just what?” Eddie asks.

There’s sounds of fumbling once again over the line, and Eddie wonders if Richie dropped his phone. The thought makes him flustered, hot under the skin in a way that’s different from the way Richie normally riles him up. But eventually Richie settles again, and he’s breathless as he says, “What’s next?”

Eddie hums. He slows his own pace as he considers. “I’d touch your chest. Shit, Rich, do you even know how badly I’ve wanted to get my hands on your chest? Mark up your shoulders. Leave bites on your stomach. Roll your nipple between my fingers to make you jump.”

“I’m gonna put you on speaker,” Richie says frantically, and there’s fumbling again as Richie does so and tries to find a new way to situate himself. Eddie can hear it when he hesitates, and a second later Richie asks, “Should I, uh. Should I take my sweatpants off now?”

Christ. Eddie had forgotten that Richie was still wearing them. He’s struck with the image of Richie following along as Eddie had talked about teasing him, all while holding his dick in his hand, barely halfway out of his pants. It sends a thrill down Eddie’s spine that settles in the pit of his stomach.

“Yeah,” he grits out. “Take them off.”

It’s another moment before Richie’s situated the way he wants to be, and his breath is labored again by the time Eddie hears him settle before he says, “Okay. I’m, um. I’m good. I’m ready.”

“You touching yourself again?” Eddie asks. He wants to keep the picture right. Richie, fully naked, leakingly hard, sprawled across his bed. Almost too big for it. Phone on his stomach with his hand wrapped around his cock, waiting for Eddie to tell him what to do.

“Yeah,” Richie responds. “One hand on my dick, like you, um. Like you’d have it. The other teasing my nipple.”

Eddie feels like ice water has been dumped on his back. Instead of it freezing him up, he feels like he’s been thrown head-first into his wildest wet dreams. That same image, from before, now complete with the picture of Richie tweaking his own nipple as Eddie tells him what to do. He stammers out, “Oh. Buh.”

Richie’s voice is hesitant when he asks, “Did you… not want me to do that?”

“No, holy shit, never stop doing that,” Eddie blurts out. His brain feels fuzzy. Staticky. All that matters is Richie’s voice over the line. “Jesus Christ. I wish I could see it.”

“Well, I’d try to take a picture, but I’m a little occupied and you just told me not to stop,” Richie says, laughing a little bit.

Eddie feels unhinged as he says, “Oh, absolutely do not stop. I’ll see it another time. Christ, we’re gonna do this all the fucking time if this is what it feels like. Jesus.”

“Feels good, right?” Richie asks. His voice is almost shy. Eddie’s heart constricts in his chest.

“Real good,” he reassures Richie. “You’re doin’ so good for me, Rich. Got the perfect picture in my head. You’re so hot, you know? I’m gonna put my hands over your whole body. Get you all riled up before I touch your dick again.”

“Tease,” Richie repeats.

“You like it,” Eddie says confidently. “But I’m gonna touch you now. I’m gonna ask if I can put my fingers in your mouth so you can wet them for me before I wrap my hand around your dick again. I’ll start slow, just to get you writhing underneath me.”

Richie lets out a cut off moan. “Underneath,” he pants out.

“This time, yeah,” Eddie says. “But it’s just so I can take you apart. Keep you pinned in place when I pick up the speed. I want to be able to see you as I get you off.”

“Okay, now I’m starting to think that you―” Richie gasps out. His breath stutters, cutting him off unintentionally. “Did you actually work for a hotline, because you’re. You’re obscenely good at this.”

Eddie lets out a breathless, startled laugh. It gets a rise out of him, knowing that as much as he wanted to take Richie apart, he’s able to do so over just a phone call. It surprises him, honestly. Maybe in ways it shouldn’t. He’s a pro at riling Richie up, has been ever since they met. How could he have expected this to be different? “It’s easy,” he says, after perhaps a beat too long. “Easy when it’s you. I don’t have to second guess what I want to do to you. With you. Whatever.”

Richie’s voice is almost fond when he responds, “You trying to romance me while you’re sexing me up? A man of multiple talents.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie mutters. “I haven’t even told you what I’d do if I could get my mouth on you.”

“Christ,” Richie grits out. “You want that?”

“Let me think, do I _want_ to suck my boyfriend’s dick?” Eddie deadpans. “Hmm, this is a really tough choice. Can I think about it and call you back?”

“ _Eddie,_ ” Richie whines.

The sound of it goes straight to Eddie’s dick. He feels that same staticy coursing down his bones. His mouth is dry as he mutters out, “Fuck. Yeah, okay. Let me tell you what I’d do if I could get my mouth on you.”

Richie makes a helpless, desperate sound. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and picks up the pace, tightening his grip on his cock and twisting.

“I’d swallow down as much of you as I could,” Eddie starts. He’s a little bit breathless himself. “Christ. I don’t even, I don’t know how much I could do because you’re so. Big. But I’d get my mouth on as much of you as possible. Wrap my hand around the rest. And then I’d wait. Let you feel my breath on you. Let you adjust before I wrap my tongue around you and start to suck. You can put your fingers in my hair, if you want.”

“I want,” Richie groans. “Jesus Christ, I fucking want.”

Heat starts to pool in the pit of Eddie’s stomach. He’s not quite close, but he’s getting there, desperately turned on by every little noise that Richie makes. “Good,” he pants out. He throws his head back against the pillows. “I’d let you fuck my mouth, you know. I’d let you take over. You set the pace, and I just blow you. I’d put my hands on your ass to encourage it.”

“Holy shit,” Richie whines. Eddie can hear it―he can hear as Richie gets himself closer and closer to the edge. It won’t take much more, then, for Eddie to have Richie spilling all over himself. He’ll chase his own orgasm after. “Eddie―”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “I know, Rich. You’re doing so good for me. Fucking into my mouth. Bet you’d start slow, right? Don’t wanna go too fast, not sure what I can take. But you’ll learn pretty quick that I can handle it. I’d tell you to speed it up. And I’d have a hand free. One I could use to tease your nipple again. One I could use to trail down your chest and stomach. One I could, um. One I could press in your ass. Just a bit, at first. Til―”

“Eddie, _Eddie,_ ” Richie cries out. His breath hitches, catching itself, and Richie lets out a stuttered, desperate moan. Eddie speeds up his own pace once again, feeling terrifyingly close as Richie makes a few more needy noises.

“Did you just…?” Eddie asks. He sounds wrecked.

It takes a moment for Richie to respond, but his fucked-out reply of, “Yeah, I did,” knocks the wind out of Eddie. Eddie groans. “Are you close?”

“Yeah,” he grits out.

Richie hums. He sounds like he hasn’t quite come down yet, still riding the post-orgasm high, or maybe chasing the aftershocks and drawing it out as long as he can. But eventually he finds enough wits to say, “You did good, you fucked me real good. You’re so hot. That mouth on you is filthy, you know? Maybe we oughta call you the trashmouth.”

“Richie,” Eddie whines. “Sweetheart.”

“C’mon, Eds, I know you’re close,” Richie murmurs. “You wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods and says, “Yeah, yeah.”

“I want to hear you,” Richie tells him. His voice sounds closer now. Eddie realizes Richie must have taken him off of speakerphone. It endears him, somehow, and puts him closer to the edge in the same breath. He can feel anticipation pooling in his gut, and he fucks his hips forward, matching the pumps of his hand. “That’s it. Let me hear you. Come for me, baby, come on.”

So Eddie does, crying out and gripping his phone in one hand as his orgasm rocks through him. He trembles as he comes in spurts that barely miss his sweatshirt, pushed up just enough to avoid the mess. He strokes himself through it all, listening to Richie’s encouragement over the line and letting himself be a little louder than he normally does so that Richie can hear every sound of it. So that Richie can know it’s all for him.

It takes him a moment to settle back down, post-orgasm, and to find his wits. He hasn’t come like that in longer than he can remember.

“You back?” Richie asks, voice soft.

“Yeah,” Eddie responds. “Hi.”

Richie laughs quietly. “Hey. Whatcha doin’?”

“Trying to figure out how my boyfriend fucked my brains out when he’s across the country,” Eddie answers. “What are you doing?”

“Revelling in the fact that you’ve called me your boyfriend like five times since we started this phone call,” Richie says smugly.

Eddie makes an affronted noise, but it’s more fond than anything else and doesn’t quite have the same effect. “I have not.”

“Have to,” Richie tells him. “It’s cute. You like me.”

“Do not,” Eddie lies.

Richie hums.

“Okay, I do,” Eddie admits. “Don’t tell anyone.”

He wishes he could bottle up Richie’s happy, easy laughter and save it for a rainy day. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Eddie smiles to himself. “You cleaned up yet?”

“Nah, still kind of,” Richie murmurs. Eddie can almost perfectly see him waving his hand vaguely in the air, like that will help him find his point. “Trying to make my way back down to earth.”

“You should, before it dries,” Eddie tells him. He’s got wipes in his nightstand, but even those feel so far away. Richie feels closer, somehow, even contained in the tiny speaker of Eddie’s phone.

“Yeah,” Richie agrees. “I will when we hang up.”

Eddie bites on his lip again. He feels shy, impossibly so, even after what they just did together. He runs his clean hand through his hair. “Or you could do it now and we could not hang up. If you want.”

“You don’t have stuff to do?” Richie asks.

Eddie does. Eddie has plenty of stuff he could do. None of it is relevant, though. Not when he’s got Richie on the phone. “It can wait,” he says decisively.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Richie says. “Let me just. Let me go clean up then I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees.

He shifts so that he can grab the wipes out of the nightstand and he cleans himself up while he waits for Richie to come back. He’s slipping his boxers back on when he hears Richie enter his bedroom again, so he’s already smiling faintly to himself when Richie picks the phone back up.

“Hi,” Eddie says.

He can hear the smile in Richie’s voice. “Hey.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/SPACERICHlE) if you want to come say hello!


End file.
